A Christmas written in blood

Chapter3

THIRD PERSON'S POV

After sitting for some time, she finally found the strength to look up. Her eyes fell on the clock. “It’s way past the time for Réveillon de Noël,” she muttered to herself.

Slowly, she got up and noticed her shoes lying beside her. Her eyes traveled up her red dress, and her hand grabbed her hair in quiet pain. “Am I just going to go to bed with all of this?” Her eyes went to the clock again. “Even the little party held on the streets for the homeless would be over by now.” She sighed, knowing that the one thing she went out to watch every year was over as well.

Her heart broke all over again into a thousand pieces. She bit down on her lower lip as the pain raged within her. Suddenly, the house felt too cold, too tight, as if it was closing in.

The silence was deafening, too unforgiving. It pressed down on her heart, tightening until she was gasping for air. Quickly, she picked up her shoes and ran out of the house. Once she was outside, she took a deep breath and blew it out into the cold night.

Music played from a distance, lights filled the streets, and everywhere felt alive. “It’s better out here than the cold, silent house that had nothing to offer other than pain,” she thought to herself. Determined to find solace on the streets of the little town in France, she set out.

As she walked down the streets of the busy market, she looked around, enjoying the beautiful decorations and lanterns. But within a few minutes of walking, she couldn’t help but notice a pattern.

It was one she was very familiar with, yet it hit harder this time. Parents held the hands of their little ones as they skidded from shop to shop, picking out little things they probably didn’t need, with smiles on their faces. Lovers had their arms linked, taking a stroll on the streets with laughter. Their eyes were filled with so much love, a sharp contrast to the cold-filled heart of Aveline.

All around her, everyone seemed to have so much joy except her. Her eyes scanned the crowd, turning around in a desperate plea for help, to be seen, to be loved, yet no one seemed to notice her.

“I am busy with work. I committed to taking some shifts. I can’t disappoint.” The voice of her mother echoed in her head.

“You are not wanted.

You are not loved.

No one wants to celebrate the holiday with you.”

The loud noises in her head took over.

Her hands slapped over her ears, but even that couldn’t keep the voices away. She wanted to scream, but even her voice disappointed her. She crumbled onto the ground, her hands still pressed over her ears as the tears eventually made their appearance.

Tears rolled freely down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook, but no sound came from her. People walked past without noticing her. Even in the midst of the crowd, no one noticed her. Not even as her tears stained the street, or as her heart crumbled and tore into pieces.

As she crouched on the floor crying, someone accidentally bumped into her as he walked past. Aveline couldn’t help but curse her life as she fell. But a hand immediately shot out and grabbed her arm.

“Are you okay?” the smooth voice asked.

Aveline looked up to find a gentleman, well-dressed in a black suit.

“I am sorry, I didn’t see you,” he apologized. “Let me help you up.” He offered as he held her other arm and pulled Aveline up. “Are you injured?” he asked in his silky voice.

“No, I am not,” Aveline replied angrily. As her eyes traveled down her body, she noticed the snow and dirt now clinging to her beautiful red dress. She sighed heavily. “Why is nothing going my way?” she muttered under her breath.

“Here.” The gentleman stretched a handkerchief towards her. “Use this to clean it off. I am really sorry,” he apologized again.

Aveline took the handkerchief from him and began to clean off the snow and dirt. She didn’t blame him; rather, she blamed her rotten luck.

“Here.” She handed the handkerchief back to him, but he shook his head.

“I think you might still need it,” he replied, his eyes on her face.

She shifted her face away, hiding her tear-stained cheeks.

“Here, have this too,” the man said to her. Before she could say anything, he pressed the envelope into her hand.

“What’s this?” Aveline asked.

“It’s an invitation for you, and who knows, this might just be the Christmas magic you have been hoping for,” the man said in a solemn voice.

Aveline looked at the envelope in her hand in confusion. She turned it to the other side, and her eyes scanned the golden words written there.

“Invitation to the Winter Ball…”

“Winter ball?” she muttered. “This can’t be for me. I think you made a mistake…” She turned sharply to the man, but he was gone. Disappeared like thin air, gone without a trace.

Her eyes scanned the streets, but she could not remember which direction he had come from or left to. For a moment, Aveline stood frozen, the envelope heavy in her hand, until the noise of the street rushed back around her, pulling her away from her broken state.

Her eyes went back to the invitation again.

“This cannot be for me. How can I ever be granted access to the Winter Ball?” she thought to herself.

Slowly, she took it out of the envelope. “There must be a mistake somewhere…” she started to say, but the words quickly died on her lips.

Her eyes widened in surprise as she read her full name on the invitation.

“You, Aveline Orchid, are cordially invited to the Winter Ball…” she read out in confusion.

She was left in even greater shock as she noticed her address on the invitation.

“What’s really going on? This is in my name. Or could it be another Aveline Orchid?” Her eyes went over it again and again. “But this is my address, so it’s… it’s probably for me,” she said, though even she didn’t believe her own words.

“What do I do now?” she thought to herself after staring at the invitation for minutes.

“Who knows, this might just be the Christmas magic you have been hoping for…” the words of the strange man echoed in her head.

She looked at the invitation again. “Maybe we should really take a chance. Maybe Santa really found us this year,” she said to herself. “If it’s in my name and addressed to my address, then maybe it’s really for me. Or maybe I should just go back home?” She flinched at the mere thought.

The thought of returning to the cold, silent house made her chest tighten. She didn’t think she could bear to stay alone back there.

With that in mind, she finally made up her mind to go.

“I am already out here, dressed in my most expensive dress. I might as well just give it a chance.”

The night had already broken her. It could not break her twice. She tucked the envelope safely into her bag as she decided to take a chance and answer a call meant for someone else, yet addressed to her. If the invitation was really a mistake, then it would be a mistake she chose to make.